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Authors: Marliss Melton
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his younger daughter, and that was when we met."
She knew the second Gabe put her first and last name together, because the corners of his eyes crinkled with appreciation. Helen Troy. Yes, her father loved the classics—though she hardly lived up to her name, unless you considered the number of ships that had sailed away from her.
"Anyway," she pressed on, determined to put this chore behind her, "within a couple of months, we got married. We bought the house in Sandbridge. The first two years you were home maybe... six or eight months total? Then this last year..." She shrugged, hoping to give the impression that their marriage had been so brief, so uneventful, that it wasn't any wonder he'd forgotten.
But Dr. Terrien's steady gaze assured her that he was on to her. "Mrs. Renault," he said, "what was your impression of Gabriel the first time you met him?"
Drat. She forced her fingers to uncurl and placed them casually in her lap. A snapshot image of the other Gabe flashed across her mind. "He was ... godlike," she admitted, smoothing the mockery from her tone. "He was handsome and smart and carried himself with so much... confidence." She'd toyed with substituting the word "arrogance," but then she'd chickened out. "I was drawn to him," she added, downplaying her infatuation. Gabe had dazzled her with his charisma and his knee-weakening good looks. His ambition to be the best SEAL ever had met with her approval, back then. He was so different from Zachary, Mallory's father.
"Did you know he would be gone so much?" Dr. Terrien asked. "How did you deal with that?"
Helen considered the question with private recrimination. "I guess I figured that a part-time father for my daughter was better than none at all," she said, misleading them both into thinking that was her main motive for marrying. She didn't want to reveal the truth: that she'd thought herself desperately in love. She could see Gabe out the corner of her eye, regarding her with unmasked astonishment.
"What happened to Mallory's real father?" the doctor wanted to know.
Helen sighed. "Nothing. He's out there somewhere. He's just never been there for her."
The doctor steepled his hands and rubbed his chin along his fingertips. "This case is extremely unusual," he admitted, taking a different tack. "In many cases of trauma, the victim will forget the violence he endured. That's perfectly normal, perhaps even desirable. But Gabriel has also forgotten the two years preceding his disappearance. X rays reveal that he took a blow to his right cheek. Trauma to the frontal lobe may have added to his memory loss. We really don't know.
"But here's what we're going to do," he continued, leaning toward them. "It's my recommendation that we leave Gabriel's memories of captivity dormant for the time being. It's entirely possible to lead a normal life and never remember them. However, you must remember the two years prior to that, or both your career and marriage are bound to suffer. Do I have your agreement on that?"
Gabe offered a nod, but he'd averted his gaze, clearly troubled by the doctor's words.
"Helen?"
"Yes, of course," she said quickly. The doctor had picked up pretty quickly that their marriage was on the rocks.
"Good," he said. "I have an assignment for you both."
Uh-oh. Mutual assignments required a degree of intimacy, and Helen wanted no part of that.
"This evening," he instructed, "I want you to pull out all your photo albums and go through them. If you don't remember anything in the pictures, Gabriel, that's okay. Your wife will interpret them as she remembers them. Let's see if the photos don't stir some memories or prompt some flashbacks. We'll discuss them tomorrow when we meet again."
Helen put a hand up. "Just one thing," she said. "I can't bring him here every day at two o'clock. I have to work." She tried not to sound too stressed.
"How about four o'clock?'
Reconciled to her duties, she gave an inner sigh. She could cancel the afternoon body
She knew the second Gabe put her first and last name together, because the corners of his eyes crinkled with appreciation. Helen Troy. Yes, her father loved the classics—though she hardly lived up to her name, unless you considered the number of ships that had sailed away from her.
"Anyway," she pressed on, determined to put this chore behind her, "within a couple of months, we got married. We bought the house in Sandbridge. The first two years you were home maybe... six or eight months total? Then this last year..." She shrugged, hoping to give the impression that their marriage had been so brief, so uneventful, that it wasn't any wonder he'd forgotten.
But Dr. Terrien's steady gaze assured her that he was on to her. "Mrs. Renault," he said, "what was your impression of Gabriel the first time you met him?"
Drat. She forced her fingers to uncurl and placed them casually in her lap. A snapshot image of the other Gabe flashed across her mind. "He was ... godlike," she admitted, smoothing the mockery from her tone. "He was handsome and smart and carried himself with so much... confidence." She'd toyed with substituting the word "arrogance," but then she'd chickened out. "I was drawn to him," she added, downplaying her infatuation. Gabe had dazzled her with his charisma and his knee-weakening good looks. His ambition to be the best SEAL ever had met with her approval, back then. He was so different from Zachary, Mallory's father.
"Did you know he would be gone so much?" Dr. Terrien asked. "How did you deal with that?"
Helen considered the question with private recrimination. "I guess I figured that a part-time father for my daughter was better than none at all," she said, misleading them both into thinking that was her main motive for marrying. She didn't want to reveal the truth: that she'd thought herself desperately in love. She could see Gabe out the corner of her eye, regarding her with unmasked astonishment.
"What happened to Mallory's real father?" the doctor wanted to know.
Helen sighed. "Nothing. He's out there somewhere. He's just never been there for her."
The doctor steepled his hands and rubbed his chin along his fingertips. "This case is extremely unusual," he admitted, taking a different tack. "In many cases of trauma, the victim will forget the violence he endured. That's perfectly normal, perhaps even desirable. But Gabriel has also forgotten the two years preceding his disappearance. X rays reveal that he took a blow to his right cheek. Trauma to the frontal lobe may have added to his memory loss. We really don't know.
"But here's what we're going to do," he continued, leaning toward them. "It's my recommendation that we leave Gabriel's memories of captivity dormant for the time being. It's entirely possible to lead a normal life and never remember them. However, you must remember the two years prior to that, or both your career and marriage are bound to suffer. Do I have your agreement on that?"
Gabe offered a nod, but he'd averted his gaze, clearly troubled by the doctor's words.
"Helen?"
"Yes, of course," she said quickly. The doctor had picked up pretty quickly that their marriage was on the rocks.
"Good," he said. "I have an assignment for you both."
Uh-oh. Mutual assignments required a degree of intimacy, and Helen wanted no part of that.
"This evening," he instructed, "I want you to pull out all your photo albums and go through them. If you don't remember anything in the pictures, Gabriel, that's okay. Your wife will interpret them as she remembers them. Let's see if the photos don't stir some memories or prompt some flashbacks. We'll discuss them tomorrow when we meet again."
Helen put a hand up. "Just one thing," she said. "I can't bring him here every day at two o'clock. I have to work." She tried not to sound too stressed.
"How about four o'clock?'
Reconciled to her duties, she gave an inner sigh. She could cancel the afternoon body
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